


Let the world come at you, love

by acatbyanyothername



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Courtship, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Obi Wan Kenobi is sexy, Qui Gon Jinn is soft, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, soulmate AU- sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24170248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acatbyanyothername/pseuds/acatbyanyothername
Summary: Jedi Master Qui Gon first meets Obi Wan Kenobi at a senatorial gala one night. The presents start coming the next day.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 90
Collections: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan May the Fourth be With You Prompt Meme





	Let the world come at you, love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShootMeDead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootMeDead/gifts).



> From a prompt by [Shootmedead ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootMeDead/pseuds/ShootMeDead)on the QuiObi discord : "I know that most would immediately think of Qui-Gon being the sugar daddy, but! But, imagine Qui-Gon being this usual Jedi, who doesn't covet wealth, is at ease with the barest of minimums etc etc, and Obi-Wan is this... Uh, business man? Not a Senator, though. Just some really rich dude, who came across Qui-Gon and is like, head over heels for him. 
> 
> And he tries to get Qui-Gon to pay attention to him by throwing money at him lol. Qui-Gon won't admit that he likes the way Obi-Wan seems to be utterly focussed on him he's not jealous of the various high end parties that Obi goes to, shut up and the way Obi-Wan just lights up when Qui-Gon gives even the smallest of smiles and just..."
> 
> Thank you to [Lilibet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet) who agreed to beta this fic and to [Pomiar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomiar/pseuds/Pomiar) for her boundless enthusiasm and support

It’s at one of those senatorial galas that he sees him the first time. He’s only a flash copper in the corner of his vision. Blink and you’ll miss it like a butterfly wing fluttering on the edge of his awareness. It’s the first flash of color he’s seen in…he doesn’t even know how long. The world has steadily faded to grey since the beginning of the war, the grey of armor and ships, even the Force feels grey nowadays. Even those gaudy get-togethers that the high society seem to enjoy so much somehow can’t bring color to his world. Maybe it’s because none of those people shine. They are all in shades of grey more or less dark, they feel oily to his senses when he casts them out. It’s fake, and indecent when there is so much suffering out there…

So it’s rare for something to break the monotony of his environment. So he follows the color and tries to ignore the swarm of people trying to get his attention, grabbing him, or moving on his path, calling him “Master Jedi”. He doesn’t have time for them. He never had. He tries to ignore the sudden and bewildering desperateness that fuels him. The fear that if doesn’t get to this butterfly soon enough it will fly away and leave him in the dark grey seas he can’t seem to escape. 

Then he’s a laugh. A clear tenor like bells in the breeze. It cuts through the ambient brouhaha and rings out in his ears. He increases his pace, and if he brings the Force to heel to make his feet a little bit faster, and make the intruders move out of his path a bit easier, then no one should know. He’s not been here for long and yet the air is weighted and cloying, it makes his clothes stick against his chest and plaster his long silvering hair against the high collar of his tunic. Like a drowning man desperately reaching for air, he finally breaks the crowd.

Reality comes crashing over him, making the tiniest detail stand out with perfect clarity. There. There’s the man whose laugh is the tenuous lifeline that Qui Gon’s fingers have been clutching almost hopelessly since he first heard him. Did he know, that man how he had captured the imagination of the Jedi Master named Qui Gon, the “maverick” as they call him? Did he have any idea of how between one heartbeat and the next a red thread had materialised between them? Did he know that he only had to twist his fingers a little, to pull the thread and Qui Gon would come to him? 

He’s beautiful. It’s the only word that comes to Qui Gon’s mind. Such a pathetic word. Here he is, one of the order’s best negotiators, headstrong as they call him, reduced to absolute silence in front of the other man. Copper hair caresses the man’s shoulders, framing an angular face with a strong jaw. He’s laughing again, the head thrown back in joyous abandon. His eyes are closed but his mouth is stretched by a wide smile and framed by a copper beard. He’s decked in heavy cerulean silk robes which cross on his chest in a reminder of the Jedi tabards just like the flared sleeves intricately embroidered with threads of -green that are the exact shade of Qui Gon’s lightsaber.

And then. The man turns. Not fully. Just a twist and a tilt of the head. And Qui Gon is pinned by ever changing eyes. With the shifting lights from the candle Qui Gon can’t decide if his eyes are blue, green or even grey. But suddenly it doesn’t matter because the smile changes a little, less bright but it gains a shadow of warmth that nobody except Qui Gon can see. And the Force shifts. Unfurls delicate gossamer wings over Qui Gon and the mystery man. Qui Gon’s shields shift to accommodate this change and he becomes aware of a presence at the edge of his consciousness. It’s warm like the smile that is aimed his way. But there’s something else that the Jedi Master also feels. 

This warmth is that of shallow waters warmed by the sun after a long summer day but under this thin layer lay unfathomable depths cool and dangerous. But the other mind doesn’t try to breach through Qui Gon’s shields or submerge them in one terrible wave. Instead it laps at his defences, a gentle knock asking for entrance. And terrifyingly, Qui Gon gives it to him. How this is even possible Qui Gon had absolutely no idea. But he’s been out of his mind since this whole affair began. What’s another small madness? It’s not small and he knows it. Touching another’s mind should never be done lightly. And not everyone can. In fact Qui Gon only knows a handful of people among the Jedi who have this ability. 

But he doesn’t let himself think about it. Instead he reaches out to the ocean waiting for him on the threshold of his consciousness.

_Hello_. He says. A laugh. That clear tenor he heard earlier but now it rings only for him in the privacy of his mind.

_Hello there_. The voice answers. And Qui Gon is doomed.

He turns tail immediately. It’s too much. It’s everything he ever wanted. But to be given this gift so suddenly, he doesn’t know what to do with it. He wants. How he wants. But he can’t. He’s a Jedi Master. A Jedi has no possession, no attachment. They are not supposed to want. And Qui Gon wants. Yearns for this bright flame and cool ocean all at once. He burns and ignores the Force’s whispers telling that this is right. He doesn’t understand. He can’t. That way lies madness. The tidal wave of his emotions threatens to drown him and he trembles all over as he stumbles wildly to leave this party as fast as he can. 

The gossamer wings stretch and bend, but they do not break. The waves of the other mind withdraw leaving the taste of sadness and salt on the Jedi Master’s tongue. But before he can completely slam his shields close, a faint whisper carries over the Force to him. _Obi Wan_ it says simply. And Qui Gon grabs this knowledge before it can disappear and amid his panic manages to gasp his name in return. _I know_ . The other, _Obi Wan_ , says and finally, finally, Qui Gon is alone in his head again. 

How? How?? How can he know?? Madness. This is madness. Why is the Force tormenting him? Serenity eludes him entirely. He must look drunk. He knows this with a distant kind of awareness. The world is lurching all around him. Up is down and left is right. Nothing makes sense anymore. He needs the Jedi temple, it’s gardens and the serenity of the place, the hushed hallways, and the soaring mezzanines. Qui Gon lurches to the end of the platform where the air taxis patiently wait for the guests to retire from the party. It’s still quite early so Qui Gon has no difficulty hailing one and waiting to finally be able to merge back inside the comfort of the Jedi Temple. 

When he finally sees the entrance of the Jedi temple looming out in front of him, he nearly weeps in relief. His shields are so tight it’s painful like a vice. He pays the cab driver, not bothering to wait for the change. He staggers more than he walks until he reaches a nondescript door. It opens before he can even knock, and he comes face to face with a pair of golden-green striped eyes. They don’t see him, they can’t anymore but that doesn’t stop Tahl from _seeing_ him and knowing. Her eyes are wide even unseeing and Qui Gon feels her worry. But he can’t do anything about it. 

“Tahl” he manages to rasp before collapsing in the arms of his crechemate, resisting the urge to sob like the youngling he hasn’t been since a lifetime ago. Tahl, bless her, doesn’t say anything but bodily drags Qui Gon inside her quarters before slamming the door behind her and locking it. Only then does Qui Gon completely let go, body wracked with shivers and tears pouring from his face.

* * *

The gifts started appearing soon after the gala. Qui Gon’s long standing serenity was still nowhere to be seen. 

The first one was a green Gatalentan tea. Legends said it could only be truly appreciated if shared. 

The second one was a ill-tempered plant that the quartermaster had dumped on the doorstep of Qui Gon’s quarters. He had been in a foul temper, with his tunics askew and torn, dishevelled hair and scratched face. Qui Gon had to bite his lips to keep the laughter from escaping. Apparently, the quartermaster had tried to wrestle the plant and lost. He had cursed a blue streak telling Qui Gon that he refused to be a delivery boy anymore if his physical integrity was likely to be in danger next time. Qui Gon had taken an immediate liking to the foul little plant and when Tahl had visited, she had asked him to describe the plant in detail before cocking a brow in his direction.

“It has tentacles Qui.” She said. “And teeth.” “Have your tastes in bedfellows changed so much over the years?” Unbothered by the face Qui Gon made at her, she continued chuckling. 

“Is there a note somewhere? Do you have any idea who might have sent it to you?” Qui Gon refused to answer, preferring to keep his focus entirely on his new friend. He would have to keep it separate from the other plants in his quarters and despite Tahl’s teasing, there was a shelf in his rooms that would do beautifully. It faced his bedroom window and was drenched in sunlight at this time of the day. Humming and keeping the pretence of not listening to Tahl he rose carefully, taking the plant with him and depositing it on the shelf. It was perfect. The only thing left was to name the little fellow. But that would come a bit later in their acquaintance. 

He made a move to leave but for the first time the plant snapped its teeth at him, and a tentacle encircled one of Qui Gon’s fingers, as if to prevent him from leaving. Tahl’s chuckles turned into full-blown laughter that had Qui Gon grumbling.

“Oh my it seems my observation was on the spot Qui! You won’t need my company anymore! This fellow doesn’t seem like the sharing type!” 

“NO!” snapped Qui-Gon. “I……I need you Tahl.” 

“Oh Qui. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be teasing you. But it’s nice to feel you smile again.” She made a move to hold his hand delicately. “You’ve been so terribly lonely these years. And I may do my best, but I can never be enough.” 

Tahl’s presence in the Force was soothing like the sun passing through the leaves of the forest while the wind rustled the trees. It was familiar and comforting but she was right. It wasn’t enough. He longed for the water, that deep ocean he had only glimpsed many days ago now. Throat closed with unnamed emotions, back hunching over their joined hands Qui Gon finally admitted his secret. The one that Tahl hadn’t pressed him to reveal that one night when he had broken down in her arms.

“I know who sends the gifts”. He rasped. “and...” “I can’t….” “I don’t…” “I shouldn’t…but…” “He said his name is Obi Wan” he whispered in awe. This man, this beautiful man that Qui Gon knew nothing about was sending him gifts. And he didn’t know why. What had he done to deserve this? This distinction. It didn’t make sense. Long silvering hair kept in a half ponytail, tall and broad, Qui Gon knew he cut a striking figure even in his cream and brown Jedi clothing. He had had enough propositions over the years to know it. But this? This? This was new. It was more. 

The forest’s arms closed around him. Only now did he realise he was shivering, that his nails had bitten deep into his palms in deep crimson croissants. He forced himself to unclench his hands and gently disengaged himself from Tahl’s hug. 

“What do you want to do Qui? I will admit I was terrified that night when you came back. You never said a word to me, but you haven’t been the same ever since.” 

“I know” Qui Gon acknowledged. Even since then, peace had been elusive, the Force kept whispering nonsense in his ears he couldn’t understand. Meditation eluded him. His sleep was no better populated by dreams where he drowned in a calm sea. He knew he couldn’t keep going on like that, but he was trapped. He wanted to hide but had already been captivated. 

“I’ve met a man” he finally confessed to his dear friend, not looking at her, despite knowing she couldn’t see him. “He…I don’t know much about him...”

“Do you at least know his name?” inquired Tahl gently.

“Yes. It’s…He told me his name is Obi Wan.”

“The name doesn’t ring any bell I’m afraid” said Tahl. “Do you have a surname at least?”

Qui Gon was already opening his mouth to say that yes, of course what stupid question was that? But no name came. He only had been given a first name; no surname attached. Before he could work himself into a panic attack, Tahl’s hands were on him.

“Breathe Qui. No need for this. I’m a librarian remember? A little bit of research isn’t going to kill me.” Oh, how grateful he was for her soothing presence and her pragmatism. For the first time since the gala, the ground felt solid under his feet.

“I trust you” he said. And didn’t need to elaborate. Tahl would find the mysterious man. And maybe, Qui Gon could see him again, talk to him be it through the Force or aloud. He was tired he realised belatedly, the tension and uncertainty that had plagued him even during the night had finally disappeared.

“I will leave you and your new bedfellow alone Qui. But I will call you as soon as I find something. Sleep well my friend.” And she left his quarters, footsteps quickly receding, as he finally laid down on his sleep couch and let sleep take him. 

* * *

As promised, it wasn’t long before his comm chimed with a message from Tahl. In the meantime the number of presents grew again. But no note. Qui Gon had checked, foolishly hoping to understand. Why did Obi Wan do this? Was he mocking him? Courting him? Had they met before for the man to spend so much on some Jedi Master?

The third gift he had received had been a rectangular blue-green meditation cushion stuffed with cotton that would do marvels for his poor knees. The fourth gift had been the most personal of them all and had left Qui Gon completely reeling. It was a rock. More specifically a greenish-white jade, smooth like water. And as he had closed his right fist around it, Qui Gon had been unsurprised to find that it fit perfectly in his palm. It even pulsed warmly in his mind, the way Obi Wan’s mind had all those nights ago. It was soothing but utterly perplexing.

Because all those gifts spoke of care, devotion, and dare he say it? Love. But Qui Gon had never met Obi Wan before. He knew nothing of this enigma of a man, and anguish had threatened to pull him under again. A languid warmth had begun spreading from his right hand. Soothing. Qui Gon had sighed. “You win”. “No more gloom I swear.” The tall man had smiled at the stone, it was as if Obi Wan had gifted him a small part of himself along with the stone. Qui Gon could _feel_ the impression the other man had left. And as he had kneeled on his newly gifted meditation cushion, the Jedi Master had let himself be pulled into the Force by the warm ebb and flow of the jade crystal nested in his hands, limbs loose, shoulders low and spine straight. He hadn’t emerged until later, when the brilliant afternoon sun had turned into a glorious golden sunset.

Since then, the jade had never left him, hanging around his neck with a leather cord, and warmed by the contact with his skin. He wasn’t any closer to cracking the enigma of the man named Obi Wan but some of his anguish had disappeared. When Tahl rang, he was ready.

“His name is Obi Wan Kenobi. He is a viscount. A scion of nobility.” Said Tahl primly and a bit annoyed. “I couldn’t find much about him unfortunately. The man is _private_.” She scowled at that as if Obi Wan had personally offended her and Qui Gon couldn’t help but smile at his friend. “For someone who is friends with very high-profile people such as Bail Organa and Senator Amidala, there is surprisingly little information about him.”

“That’s fine Tahl.” “Thank you. Is that all?”

“No” she told him, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“There’s another charity gala two days from now. I don’t know if he will make an appearance, but both Senator Organa and Senator Amidala will be there, so chances are he will be too.”

Qui Gon had never been prone to visions, his gift wasn’t about prodding the Force’s currents to feel the future. Being in the moment, being mindful of the present, grounded by the living Force was how he had always lived his life. But right now he wished he had a gift for predicting the future. His hand closed around the jade pendant around his neck, a move that had already become a grounding habit. The Force was quiet and offered no guidance.

“I will go!” he said. Tahl smiled triumphant and dropped a kiss on his cheek

“Now when you come back with your man, you _must_ present him to me, I’m sure he’s absolutely delightful!”

“TAHL!” said Qui Gon flustered. He was blushing all the way to his roots, but his heart was warm from his friend's teasing.

* * *

When the fateful evening came, Qui Gon didn’t wear his usual attire. In a fit of fancy he took out a formal black tunic with a deep forest green undershirt and laced-up black leather boots. His hair had also been braided back. Two braids ran along both sides of his head, secured in a silver ring, some strands still floating freely on his shoulders, and the rest of his hair had been gathered in a loose ponytail.

All in all Qui Gon couldn’t remember the last time he had bothered to dress so nicely. But just thinking that he might see Obi Wan again was enough to make him ignore his discomfort. The jade was still nestled in the hollow of his throat. He checked himself one last time and strode out of his quarters and the temple to take a cab that would lead him to where the gala took place.

At first glance nothing differed from the previous soirée. That is until you looked at the place through the Force. The cloying grey fog of last soirée was nowhere to be felt. The Force was alive, bright currents swirling languidly across the room. The gossamer wings he had first felt all those nights ago fluttered in his mind, and hope surged within Qui Gon. The Force had answered his prayers and Obi Wan was there. Led by the gentle whispers of his bond, for he couldn’t deny it, he went in search of the other half of his soul.

Obi Wan was easy to find. The crowd wasn’t thick and relatively easy to navigate. Finally Qui Gon spotted him. Obi Wan presented himself to the Jedi Master’s hungry gaze in all his glory of copper beard and flame hair. He was as resplendent as last time, dressed this time in a structured black leather ensemble that revealed as much as it hid. It was a work of art really. Even Qui Gon could tell. High collared, it was slit all the way from under Obi Wan’s chin to the middle of his chest, revealing a deep blue undershirt. Two leather panels wrapped around Obi Wan’s waist, highlighting it like some kind of open corset. The man didn’t wear pants but a floor length skirt of black leather with two long slits that let his muscular legs clad in deep blue fabric free to move. Qui Gon’s throat was absolutely parched at the sight of him, he felt dizzy. Frantically he looked around for some kind of refreshment. He hauled the nearest droid and throwing back his head, drained his flute in one long swallow. When he felt steady again, as much as he could given the circumstances, he opened his eyes again. The crowd had shifted, and someone was blocking his view of Obi Wan. Shoulders thrown back, long back cape flowing freely down the back of the man, something about him was achingly familiar. Curious Qui Gon tested the Force. And reeled back in surprise.

“Master?” he asked incredulously and louder than he would have liked. The tall man turned to look at him, brown eyes piercing under bushy brows, a neatly trimmed beard and goatee, silver hair fastidiously combed back. Qui Gon hadn’t seen the man for years and he didn’t understand his presence here.

“Qui Gon!” Dooku genially called back. “What a surprise to see you over here!” Dumbstruck, Qui Gon could only stand rooted to the spot as his master, former master, his mind corrected him, glided over to him seemingly perfectly at ease among the elite gathered there. Once he came up to him, Dooku looked him up and down and raised a silvered brow.

“I am impressed my former apprentice, had I known you weren’t a lost cause long ago, I would have made an effort to bring you with me more often at diplomatic gatherings.”

Qui Gon flushed to his roots. His master had always lamented that Qui Gon was too boorish and could never blend in. Things hadn’t gotten any better once he had been knighted and decided to let his beard and hair grow. His master had never really hidden his disapproval.

“I didn’t know you would be here” managed Qui Gon.

“Oh! I seldom come to Coruscant now” replied Dooku. “But I had business endeavours.”

“Business endeavours?”

“Yes. I have come into my inheritance as you must know. After I left the Jedi, I went back to my home planet and asserted my claim as the Count of Serenno.” Qui Gon eyes widened.

“Congratulations Master.” He said and meant it. Dooku had always enjoyed the finer things in life, the spartan life of a Jedi had always made his master’s lips pinch. At least now he could enjoy them to his heart content.

“Thank you Master Qui Gon.” Politely answered Dooku. “Now, there is someone I want to introduce you to. He is a remarkable young man. I am sure you will find his company most pleasing.” Taking Qui Gon by the shoulder, he guided him to the group of people he had been standing with. Qui Gon could only look as his former master tapped Obi Wan’s shoulder, who turned, a brilliant smile on his lips.

“Qui Gon, this is…”

“ _Obi Wan_ ” whispered Qui Gon

“I see you’ve already met. Well in that case I will take my leave. It was a pleasure meeting you again Qui Gon.” And Dooku disappeared, not that Qui Gon was paying him much attention. All of his focus was on Obi Wan as the world around them went mute again.

_Hello_. Sent Qui Gon. His voice had completely deserted him, but it seemed to be the right move. His bond with Obi Wan fluttered, like eyes closing in rapture, and the other man’s smile softened into something more private.

_Hello there_. Obi Wan sent back. They stood inches away, and yet neither could quite close the remaining distance. A sacred threshold.

_You are beautiful_ the other man added as a blush spread across his face, painting his cheekbones pink. The shy affirmation ruined Qui Gon and he crossed the remaining space between them, hands trembling as his fingers came to lightly trace the blush on Obi Wan’s face. This close, he could feel Obi Wan’s breath on his face, feel his fluttering pulse. Flinging the doors of his mind open wide, he welcomed the ocean, as his mouth closed on Obi Wan’s. Delicate. A question. So at odds with the recklessness of his inner desires.

Everything froze. And then Obi Wan surged under him, opening up, hands moving to twine themselves behind Qui Gon’s neck. Their bond was flooded in a blinding light of pure joy and love that drowned both of them and carried them away. Neither knew where the other began. A lifetime later, the waves gently receded, dropping them both at the gates of Qui Gon’s mind.

In the physical world, they untangled themselves, but kept their foreheads pressed together. They couldn’t bear to be entirely parted, their cheeks damp with tears. Qui Gon realised he was mouthing desperate words against Obi Wan and that Obi Wan was saying them back to him in the same breath.

“IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou” they said and laughed wetly. The world came back into focus. Astonishingly, no time at all had seemed to pass. The other guests were chatting together, and no one was paying attention to them.

Obi Wan let out a chuckle, as he took Qui Gon’s hand to move them to a deserted corner.

“I have no idea how I will explain this to Dooku when I come back.” He admitted.

“Dooku? But. How do you even know each other?” exclaimed Qui Gon. He wasn’t afraid that Obi Wan regretted what laid between them. He could feel Obi Wan’s emotions as if they were his own and no regret was tarnishing the bright happiness, only a hint of sheepishness.

“Well. You see, I haven’t always been this dashing beloved. I used to be Master Dooku’s padawan. He picked me when no other masters would and trained me to the best of his abilities, until he felt the call to claim his inheritance. He was reluctant to do so because it would mean abandoning me.” His voice shook a little, but all Qui Gon felt was awe.

“You were a Jedi?” “Why did I never see you before?” he whispered. This, whatever this was, was private, and raising his voice was unthinkable. Obi Wan lifted his head from where it was nestled against Qui Gon and looked at him in the eyes, very serious.

“You and him weren’t on the best of terms. But he was the best master I could ask for, so I made my choice, and I followed him, I left the Order and he trained me as the heir to this title and fortune. And now, here am I.” Emotions welled in the tall Jedi’s throat at Obi-Wan’s confession.

“You were so brave my heart, and you are so magnificent now.” “I should worship you the way you worshipped me.” Even in the half-light Qui Gon was able to see the brilliant blush that lit Obi Wan’s face.

“My gifts were to your liking then?” Qui Gon could only laugh softly.

“Like them? Beloved they were perfect.”

“Good” said Obi Wan decisively, as an impish grin spread on his lips before they descended on Qui Gon’s again. “Because I intend to continue love. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you”. Their second kiss was as soft as their first, light caresses that promised wonders to come.

“Forever” said Qui Gon

“Forever” echoed the other half of his soul

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Love Run by the Amazing Devil
> 
> Drawing of formal Qui Gon by the amazing Kurtssingh (check their art on tumblr : https://kurtssingh.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Picture that inspired Obi Wan's second outfit : https://teapirate.tumblr.com/image/169964306770


End file.
